The Mistake in the Misery
by Darling Pretty
Summary: Hannah was gone, Booth was miserable, Cam was there. Those are prime conditions for mistake-making. And everyone knows that mistakes have consequences. Oneshot. Booth/Cam friendship mostly, hints at B/B.


**So apparently any and all attempts from me at Bones stories will be told from Cam's POV. I swear, I don't set out trying to write a story in the first person. But I'm happy to report that Cam and I get along just fine.**

**I was inspired by the whole Angela/Hodgins/Wendell pregnancy scare, but only by a couple of lines and a scene from the whole thing; you'll see. This all takes place after the whole Hannah debacle. I don't remember if Paul existed at that point, but for the purposes of this story, he doesn't now.**

_**Oh, also, I'd like to make one thing very clear: I want Booth and Brennan together just as much as anyone. I don't even really like Cam and Booth together, except as friends. But I **_**do**_** love Cam and I think this story stems from the fact that I'd like her to get a little loving from a character we see more than once every blue moon. Plus, the story wouldn't let me alone until I wrote it.**_

**I own absolutely nothing.**

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><p>Coming to the Founding Fathers was a bad idea, I can see that now. I should have gone straight home, not come here to try and drown my sorrows. But it's just that… it's that everything and everyone has been so damn miserable lately.<p>

I actually liked Hannah. We all did, I think. She was a good match for Booth, or so we thought. So now I think we're all feeling a little betrayed. How could she destroy him so completely? I'll give her credit for knowing her own mind and not letting the whole thing go further, but that's the only praise you'll get from me.

The thing about Seeley is that he's one of those people whose misery seeps out, through no fault of his own. But he's just so in the center of everything and he's such a good guy that you can't help but feel for him. I've known that about him for what seems like ever.

So now _everyone _is miserable, even though he's the worst. And with the murder front being relatively quiet for now, there's nothing anybody can do except sit and be miserable. I'm tired of it, frankly. Which is why I'm here, in this bar, trying to forget for a few minutes.

And he's here. Of course he's here. I guess I should thank God that he's not out playing pool or gambling, but I'm not feeling particularly charitable to the big guy upstairs right now.

I have to go over. I really don't want to. But it's… it's _Seeley_, for God's sake.

"You want some water to go with that scotch?" I ask as I approach, seeing he's drinking scotch with water, skewed heavily to one side. Internally, I wince; he only drinks his father's drink when he's drinking to get drunk.

"Nope," he replies.

"You might as well just drink it straight from the bottle and save the bartender the trouble."

"I'm fine, Cam," he growls.

"I'm seeing half-drunk, I'm seeing heartbroken, but I'm not seeing fine anywhere in there."

"Don't you have places to be? Better things to do?"

I could kill Hannah.

"Nope," I say cheerfully. "Nothing better to do than save a friend from drinking alone. I _did _have plans with my friends Kate and Leo and a ship called the Titanic, but they can wait."

"Cam-"

"Buy me a drink," I order, sitting down.

He signals the bartender and gets me a beer. I've never really been one for girly drinks.

We sit in silence, sipping and thinking. I bet you we're both wondering the same thing: how the hell did I get here?

"What are you doing here, Cam?" he asks suddenly.

"Right now? Drinking a beer," I respond pleasantly.

"You know what I mean."

I sigh. "You're hurting, Seeley. You're my oldest friend and you're hurting."

"I'm fine."

"You're not, though. You've been through hell. No one would be fine after that. And you're never going to be fine until you start admitting that you're not."

"Thanks for the advice, Dear Abby." Oh, sarcasm has never looked good on him.

I just shrug and bring the beer bottle to my lips. I'm right and he knows it.

"I yelled at Bones today," he admits quietly.

I know. I listened to a whole tirade when she got back to the lab. But I don't let him know that. "You always yell at Dr. Brennan."

"But I _meant_ it this time. She didn't do anything wrong, she didn't deserve it. It's just like… it's like _she_ took this part of me when she left, you know? The part that knows how to be nice to people."

If Hannah ever steps foot in Washington DC again, I'm going to rip her limb from limb with my bare hands. "You are one of the most kind-hearted, wonderful men I know, Booth. She couldn't have taken that from you. You're just having an off week." Off month, really.

He brings his hand up to rub his eyes. "I just don't know how to make it better, Cam. I don't."

I am _not _going to cry. "What can I do to help?" I ask, my voice thick with tears. I cough but that only brings the knot in my throat higher.

Of all the possible answers I could have gotten, I get the only one I'm not expecting; he leans over and kisses me.

Let me make one thing very clear: I am not in love with Seeley Booth. I do love him, but I am completely over him. I have moved on with my life. All I want is for him to find happiness. In fact, I'm pretty much hoping he'll find it with Dr. Brennan. They'd do each other good.

That doesn't mean I don't kiss back for a split second. Because I love him. Just not like that, not anymore.

I pull away and look at him warily. "Seeley-"

"She's gone when I go home, Cam. I go home alone and it's like she just left all over again."

I close my eyes so I don't have to see the tears and the cry for help in his. "We can't do this. It's not a good idea, Seeley."

Brennan should be the one he's asking for this comfort; she's the one he wishes I was. She's the one who stopped the initial bleeding from his heart and I'm just a Band-Aid. But she's not here and I am.

"Camille,_ please_."

My breath catches and I feel a tear roll down my cheek. He hasn't called me Camille in years; he stopped when we put our past as a couple behind us, back when I needed him more than he needed me.

And now he needs me. I open my eyes.

"Just for tonight," I say firmly, downing the rest of my beer.

I'll be Camille just one more time. Just for tonight.

0ooo0

"Hey, Cam?" Angela asks quietly as she knocks on my office door.

I look up from what I'm doing—currently that is tugging the wastebasket closer to me with my foot, since this nausea is threatening to become very, very real. "Angela!" I exclaim in surprise. "What can I do for you?"

"Um… so here's the thing. You know the bathroom? The one only you, me, and Brennan use? Um, there's a used pregnancy test in there…"

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit. "And?" I ask, trying to at least look calm.

"Well, it's definitely not mine, and Brennan told me it's been "far too long since she last had intercourse" for it to be hers—you know how she is—so you're really the only other option and… And I just have to ask. Are you pregnant?"

Shit, shit, shit! How could I be so flaky? "I… I have no idea-"

Unfortunately, breakfast decides to make an unscheduled reappearance and I have to stop denying my pregnancy long enough to hurl it into my trash can.

"Right," Angela says, dragging out that word, "So I'm going to take that as a yes."

I look up and wipe my mouth. "Angela, _please_ don't tell anyone," I beg. "Please."

"Whoa, slow down! I won't tell anyone," she says when she sees me frown. "I promise. But who's the father?"

Oh, she's going to hate me. Everyone is going to hate me for this. I could lie. I could say it was a one night stand. But Seeley would take one look at me and know. He _always _knows. And then everybody would know I was a liar _and _a whore.

I'm not a whore. I stand by my decision to sleep with him. It was only that one night and it never happened again. It never _will _happen again. We were awkward for awhile, but we're back to normal now. Or we were. Until this.

"We're friends, right?" I ask suddenly. I have to know, if I'm going to tell her the whole truth.

"Yeah, of course," she says easily.

"I mean, I know your loyalties lie with Dr. Brennan, but we're… close. So if I tell you this, please tell me you'll at least remember that there's another person inside of me and not kill me."

"Cam, we're friends," she laughs. "Promise. And unless you're about to tell me you're carrying Booth's baby-" I look down and there are murderers who have looked less guilty than I do right now. And then she understands. "Oh. Oh!"

I close my eyes so I don't have to see what will no doubt be my grisly demise.

"Cam, what- When did that happen? _How _did that happen?"

I take a deep breath and the whole story comes spilling out. Well, not the _whole _story, but I tell her all about Founding Fathers and the utterly stupid decision to give Booth what he thought he wanted instead of what I knew he needed.

Angela, bless her heart, doesn't get mad. She gets quiet, but she doesn't get mad. I can see her fighting with herself internally and I feel awful for putting her in this position.

"If you want to yell at me," I say, "go ahead. You have full permission."

"Are you in love with him?" she asks out of the blue.

"Excuse me?"

"Are you in love with Booth?"

"No!" I exclaim. Then I think about it for a moment. "I mean, I love him because… because…"

"Because he's Booth," Angela supplies. "And everyone's a little in love with him. But you're not like pining or anything, right?"

"I am pine free," I promise.

"So what are you going to do? Are you going to keep it or whatever?"

"I don't know, Angela," I sigh. "I just don't know."

"What's wrong with keeping it?" she asks, sitting down. I could kiss her for instinctively knowing I need to talk.

"It's… it's not the right time," I say. "He's not the right guy."

"But…" she prompts. Damn, Angela is good at this talking thing. I'll have to remember that.

"But Seeley would never look at me again if I had an abortion. _I'd _never look at me."

"It's a soul," she nods knowingly.

"It's not a religious thing," I explain. "Or a political thing. Not for me. But… but this baby, it's- it's a part of me. And I've always wanted to have kids, eventually. As wrong as everything is, it just feels _right_. And I know that it complicates everything for Seeley, but… I- I want this."

A tear rolls down my cheek and I dash it away. There will be absolutely no crying.

Angela grins. "Then let me be the first to say congratulations," she says and gives me a hug. "You're going to be great."

"Thank you, Angela."

"You _are _going to tell Booth though, right?"

"Yes, of course," I answer, even though the thought makes me want to be sick all over again. "I'm just waiting for the right moment."

She nods. "Will you be okay if I leave you alone?"

I manage to smile. "You've done more than enough. Thank you."

0ooo0

"Awkward," Angela says nervously as she comes into my office about a week later. "Awkward. _Very _awkward."

I look up. "What's going on?"

"I didn't know, okay? I didn't know you hadn't told him and we were talking and it sort of just slipped out."

Oh no.

"Angela, what did you-" I start to ask, even though the knot in my stomach already tells me everything I need to know. You don't spend ten years as a cop without developing decent instincts.

"I sort of may have told Booth that you're pregnant. And he sort of might have figured the whole story out. And he sort of might be on the warpath now. And he sort of might be coming here. Right now."

"Oh God," I say, my hands rising to cover my mouth of their own accord.

"You want my advice?" she asks. I nod. "_Run_."

I grab my coat and the file of the case we're working on and I'm out the door as fast as I can walk in these heels.

"Cam."

Shit. I freeze, then slowly turn around, trying to twist my grimace into a smile. "Seeley."

"You're _pregnant_?"

"You know," I deflect, "I'm really busy, I can't talk. We can have this conversation later." I turn to go.

"_Camille_."

Turning back around, I fire back, "_Seeley_." I hope my posture reads defiance.

"Are you pregnant?"

"Sort of."

_Sort of_? What kind of answer is _sort of_? Where did _that _come from?

He, of course, calls me on it. He always does. "It's a yes or no question, Cam."

I look at my shoes. "Yes."

"Is it mine? I mean, am I a possibility?"

Oh, that was cruel. I frown. "You're the _only_ possibility."

"Sorry," he apologizes and half means it. "But I don't know what you do in your spare time."

I feel a familiar sort of fire course through me. How _dare_ he insinuate _anything_ when I was the one who was trying to fix him in the first place? "What I _do _in my spare time? What I do in my spare time is none of your damn business, Seeley Booth. If you must know, I wouldn't know what I do in my spare time, since running this place and raising a teenager keep me pretty busy. But _thank you_ for making me feel like a whore. Because I was just starting to get over the whole being the worst cliché in the book thing and I really needed something else to beat myself up over!"

"Sorry," he repeats and this time he actually sounds sincere. "But this is… this is… wow. It's big."

"I'll give you that."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was… working up to it."

"So what are you going to do?"

"Can we… can we not have this conversation here?" I ask, looking around at the several interns pretending to work around us.

"Right," he coughs as he realizes just how public this has all been. We go back into my office and I close the door. "So what are you going to do?" he repeats.

"I'm keeping it," I say. All of the other options are officially off the table. They went off the table when Michelle started picking nursery colors. "End of story."

"I wouldn't have-"

"I know," I hastily comfort him when I realize what he thinks I think of him. He's still my best friend and I still care about him.

"So what now?" he asks.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you… Do you want to get married or-"

I don't even let him finish the sentence. "_No_!"

He looks kind of offended, which I guess I can understand, given the vehemence of my refusal. "But-"

"Seeley, I know you're trying to be a good guy here, and I appreciate it. But I know what I want and I know what you want and neither of us want to be married."

"So what _do _you want?"

"I want… I want to have this baby. I'm happy to let you be in his or her life as much as you'd like, but under no circumstances do I want to get married. I want a healthy baby and I never want to be married to someone pining away for someone who's not me."

"No marriage. Got it. That all?" he laughs.

I think about it for a moment. Normally I wouldn't say this, normally I'd let things just happen and let them find each other on their own. But really, I'm tired of this and I'm pregnant so I get to say whatever the hell I want. "And I'd like you and Dr. Brennan to get your act together already. The sexual tension is just about tearing my workplace apart at the seams."

He blushes crimson. I knew he would. "Bones and I are-"

"If you say just friends, I'm going to crack your skull open."

"I-"

"Give her some time, Booth," I counsel. "But not too much. Don't let her be the one that got away."

"Cam, I… I don't know how to thank you."

"Then don't," I shrug.

He kisses my cheek. "I _do _love you, Cam. You know that."

"I know," I smile.

He places his hand on my stomach. "That goes double for you, baby," he says in a goofy sort of voice.

I laugh and send him on his way. We're going to be just fine.

Wait… If he and Brennan get married, that would mean she'd be my child's stepmother. Oh God. Yeah, I did _not_ think that one all the way through…

I'm kidding, of course.

Mostly.

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><p><strong>Well, that's all, folks! Apparently I really love Angela and Cam being friends. They're just fun to write together.<strong>

**Anyways, I hope you liked it!**

**-Juli-**


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